


Into the Sun

by Marianna_Morgan



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst with a Happy Ending, Hurt Jared, Hurt Jensen, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Painter Jensen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-07
Updated: 2017-12-07
Packaged: 2019-02-11 18:34:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,865
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12941241
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Marianna_Morgan/pseuds/Marianna_Morgan
Summary: They share a drink, then share a bed…and when Jensen wakes in the morning, Jared is the first thing he sees.





	Into the Sun

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings for suicidal situations and references to abuse
> 
> Will I see you soon? Or did we move on? – lyrics from “Into the Sun” by Sons of the East

He expects it to be different in the end.

But it’s not.

It’s not different.

He feels the same numbness that has plagued him for weeks, is haunted by the same scattered thoughts that loop as a constant reminder of what once was, of what should _still be_.

But that’s over.  Jared had made his choice.  And Jensen has to live with it…or not, since here he sits – alone in his shitty car just as he is alone now in his shitty life.  A life that will end within the hour if the Internet can be trusted.

Jensen glances at the hose dangling over the edge of the window like a venomous snake coughing its toxic fumes in his face.  Its other end is stuck in the car’s exhaust pipe, and although carbon monoxide poisoning isn’t how he imagined he would go, it’s better than other options he had considered.

Jensen sighs, wondering how long it will take for someone to find him after this is done.  The field is remote – that’s the whole point.  He doesn’t want to be disturbed or stopped.  But he _does_ want to be found, and his eyes burn with threatening tears as he pictures Jared’s reaction when he hears the news.

Jensen knows Jared will blame himself – of course he will – but the letter Jensen had delivered that morning was meant to erase all misplaced guilt.  Because this is not Jared’s fault; it’s Jensen’s fault for lacking the strength to stick around and watch Jared be happy with anyone other than him. And he had told Jared as much in the letter. He only hopes Jared will believe him.

Jensen glances again at the hose, wondering if this is the right decision.  Only a minute or so has passed.  There is still time to change his mind.  Time to drive across town.  Time to interrupt the ceremony.

Jensen smiles at the idea, then blinks as something moves in his rearview.  He leans closer to the mirror, confused by what he is seeing – because Jared is supposed to be exchanging vows at a lakeside venue, not running toward him.

But Jensen doesn’t question it. He opens the door, emerging from the driver’s side in a cloud of fumes at the same moment Jared reaches the passenger side – dressed in a tux, his hair a mess, his eyes red and wet from fresh tears.

They stare at each other before Jared turns, and Jensen follows his gaze, watching as a crowd – the wedding party, the guests – appear on the horizon behind them.

Jared turns back to Jensen, his expression saying it all.

Jensen nods and rounds the rear of the car, yanking the hose from the exhaust pipe as Jared does the same with the end lodged between the window and the doorframe.  The length of rubber is abandoned in the grass as they both duck into the car.  They exchange another glance – wondering just who is saving who – before Jensen stomps on the gas.

Jared’s name floats behind them, then disappears in the dust, swallowed by the echoing _fuck_ screamed as the groom realizes his new reality – Jared is gone.

Jensen knows the feeling but spares no sympathy because Jared is back where he belongs.  As he drives, he splits his attention between the crowd growing smaller in his rearview…and his future sitting beside him in the passenger seat.

Jared leans forward, covering his face with his hands before running his fingers through his hair.  He’s shaky and overwhelmed and accepts the flask when Jensen offers it.  He drinks long and deep, then tosses it to the backseat, exchanging it for a random sock among the heap of junk that’s accumulated back there.  He slips it over his hand and up his arm, creating a sock puppet.  He smiles at the memory, at the inside joke between them, and reaches across the space to animate the puppet inches from Jensen’s face.

Jensen twitches a smile and turns his head, thinking how funny life is – how he should be dead and Jared should be married…yet here they are.  Just like old times.

Miles pass in comfortable silence.  Jared falls asleep an hour into their trip, and Jensen stares at him longer than he should when he’s still driving a car.  But he can’t help himself.

It’s dark when they arrive at Jensen’s place.  He holds the door for Jared, then pulls out a chair at the kitchen table.  Jared sits, ducking his head with a shy smile when Jensen leans against the counter and stares at him as though he’s waiting for Jared to disappear, for this to all be a dream.  But when several moments tick by and Jared remains, Jensen goes to the bedroom and returns with a duffel of clothes – Jared’s clothes that Jensen couldn’t bear to see in his closet…but couldn’t bear to part with, either.

Jared smiles that crooked smile – both embarrassed and touched – and sorts through the bag. He crosses to the bathroom at the end of the hall, and when he emerges, the tux has been replaced with loose-fitting jeans and a well-worn t-shirt.

He’s the most beautiful thing Jensen has ever seen.

They stand in each other’s space – hesitant at first, then easy and familiar.  Jensen brushes Jared’s hair from his face and holds his gaze.  Jared nuzzles into Jensen’s touch, then follows him to the backroom.  

It’s nothing special.  It’s cramped and cluttered. Its walls are lined with shelves of old books.  There’s a table stained with paint, another smaller table covered with brushes and used, rolled-up tubes of bright oils.

Jared smiles at the memories here – so many lazy weekends spent together, him reading while Jensen painted.  But his smile fades when he realizes why Jensen brought him here now.  He crosses to the canvases hanging on the far wall and frowns at the harsh brushstrokes, the dark color palette of black and deep reds.  Jensen’s pain is bleeding across the canvas, and Jared knows he is the reason.  He smooths his fingers over the globs of paint dried hard and rough, and looks at Jensen standing in the doorway.

Jensen is staring at the floor but glances up when he feels Jared’s attention return to him.

Jared’s eyes mist, but Jensen shakes his head.

They will talk about what happened – _all_ that happened.  But not now.  Now they are alive and together, and could both benefit from a stiff drink.

Jensen holds out his hand to Jared and smiles when those long fingers wrap around his.

They share a drink, then share a bed…and when Jensen wakes in the morning, Jared is the first thing he sees.

Jared is already awake and smiles.

Jensen smiles back.

Neither have said a word since reuniting – but then again, words were never needed between them.

As they get dressed, a balled-up sock bounces off the side of Jensen’s head, and he turns to see Jared grinning…dimples and all.  Jensen laughs and shakes his head.  _Always with the socks…_

They drive to the beach and stay until dusk.  Toes in the sand, fingers intertwined.  When the moon begins to rise, they huddle together beneath her light and kiss slow and gentle.

They arrive home after dark, and as Jensen sits at the kitchen table, Jared approaches from behind, hugging him and kissing his temple.  It’s the safest he’s ever felt, the most loved.

That night, they sleep tangled together.  But the next morning when Jensen wakes, Jared has shifted to his side, his bare back exposing its secret.  Jensen frowns and lifts to his elbow, easing the sheet further down to reveal the full extent of abuse.

The bruises are in varying stages – some the faded yellow, green, and brown of healing…others the vibrant red, blue, and purple of recent infliction.  The colors could be featured in one of his paintings, but they’re not.  They’re marring the smooth, pale skin of Jared’s back, and Jensen’s jaw clenches in instant rage.

Although his touch is light and careful as he ghosts his fingers over each bruise, Jared stirs and rolls over.  He blinks up at Jensen, somehow looking both vulnerable and indestructible.  His smile is sad, _fragile_ when he shakes his head.

Jensen nods, knowing Jared is right.  Pursuing revenge would only bring trouble, and Jensen would never risk that.  Jared is here and safe, and _that_ is what matters.  He sighs and cups Jared’s face, marveling at his depth of forgiveness and strength.

Jared’s smile turns shy under Jensen’s focused attention.

They kiss, lingering in the moment.

After breakfast, they drive to the pier – the one they used to go to before everything went to shit.  Returning now seems symbolic, and they walk hand-in-hand as the seagulls call above.  It’s peaceful and happy here…until the shot rings out.

Jensen goes down first, and Jared is too stunned to speak, too stunned to move.  He watches in horror as Jensen’s body jerks in response to the bullet’s impact, his hand slipping from Jared’s grasp as he falls.

Jared is next, the second bullet ripping through his stomach.  He makes a guttural sound and falls beside Jensen, though not within reach.  He turns his head in time to see the man he left at the altar shove the gun in his mouth and pull the trigger.

People are screaming at the carnage, yet they sound far away.

Jared closes his eyes and drifts toward whatever is pulling him, comforted by images of him and Jensen over the past few days – the beach, their shared smiles, those tender kisses.  Maybe they won’t have forever together, but at least they had the past few days.  He sighs.

Blood stains the boards of the pier as Jensen ignores the fiery pain searing through his side and pulls himself closer to Jared.  His blood smears with Jared’s as he grabs the limp hand stretched toward him.  He squeezes, relieved when Jared’s eyes flutter open.

Jared stares at him, his inhalations wet and strangled from the blood clogging his throat and dribbling from his mouth.

Jensen increases the pressure of his grip, urging Jared to stay, _refusing_ to let him go.

It’s the last thing he remembers before waking up in the hospital.  He panics when he sees the empty bed across from his and demands to know where Jared is, demands to know his condition.

But the nurse claims to know nothing and leaves the room.

Hours crawl by with no news, and although Jensen is frustrated and pissed, he is not sad.  He would know if Jared had died.  He would _feel_ it...wouldn’t he?  

He knows he would, yet despair begins to creep in as he sits in the wheelchair, staring out the window and wondering what the hell he’s going to do.

His answer comes when another wheelchair is rolled behind his and two arms wrap around him, one covered with a sock – a sock _puppet_ to be exact.

Jensen smiles and chuckles even as tears sting his eyes. “Always with the socks…” he whispers and hears Jared’s muffled laugh as he buries his face in Jensen’s neck.

**_  
END_ **

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by the video for "High Hopes" by Kodaline


End file.
